


Interlude

by wintershelter



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e08 Night of the Hawk, M/M, mild panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6394921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintershelter/pseuds/wintershelter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len rapped lightly on the hotel room door. He kept his back toward it, watching the hallway. He was sure he wasn't followed, but he couldn't afford to be sloppy, not now.</p><p>A missing scene for 1x08 Legends of Tomorrow</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

Len rapped lightly on the hotel room door. He kept his back toward it, watching the hallway. He was sure he wasn't followed, but he couldn't afford to be sloppy, not now.

He heard a lock being unsnapped and the turn of the doorknob. Len turned his head as the door was opened up a crack. The tenant inside looked at him for a brief moment, before opening the door up all the way. Len entered the room. He waited until the door was shut before speaking.

“We're taking down Savage tonight.” Len said, not wasting anytime by getting right to the point.

“Did you come here for my help?” The man asked with a snort.

“No, what I need for you is to stay here. Everyone thinks I murdered you, Mick, it wouldn't do well for you to show up now.”

“Could be funny.” Mick said, but his voice held no humor.

Len ignored his comment. “After Savage is dead, I'll come back to get you and we'll go back to 2016.” 

“That's assuming you kill him.” Mick said, after a pause. “What happens if that doesn't work?”

“He'll be dead. He was dead the moment he laid hands on you.” Len said, anger seeping into his tone.

The fire in Len’s voice had Mick stepping closer to Len, crowding into his space. Len lifted his chin, ever so slightly, meeting Mick's eyes with the same intensity. The men stared at one another, bodies almost touching and their mouths just inches from one another.

Len licked his lips and Mick could tell Len wanted to kiss him, badly, but was unsure if he could. Mick had said, if he touched him again, he'd burn him and aside from that night on the field, Len hadn't tried to. Len was giving Mick his space and hadn't tried to initiate any contact, though, in this moment, everything about Len was screaming that he wanted to do so.

Mick was still angry with Len. A small spiteful part of him wanted to brush Len off and give him a taste of his own medicine. He wanted Len to feel the hurt he'd felt when his fired his cold gun and chose against him. Another part of Mick wanted nothing more than to put all this behind them and take Len in his arms. He didn't know which he wanted to do more.

Still indecisive, Mick tentatively brought his lips to rest against Len’s. It was much a softer kiss than Mick wanted it to be but he wanted to test Len's reaction, wanted to test his own reaction to kissing him. Mick only felt the barest of pressure of Len’s lips against his. Len’s body was still rigid and hands remained firmly at his sides.

Mick pulled back to look at Len. He looked composed but years of experience had taught Mick to see the cracks in his facade. He saw him tongue the inside of his lips and swallow, both signs of Len not knowing how to proceed. It was the look of uncertainty in Len's eyes that did Mick in though. He leaned forward again.

“You can touch me, Snart.” Mick said gruffly.

That was all the encouragement Len needed. He surged forward, his lips latching onto Mick's. He brought his hands up to grip Mick's shirt. He grasped the fabric too tightly, Mick heard the fibers tearing under the other man’s hold. He wrapped his arms around Len's torso, pulling him closer.

Len was kissing him like his life depended on it. The kisses were rough and full of desperation. Mick appreciated the urgency, returning Len's nips and bites with equal fervor, getting lost in the sensations of heat and desire. 

It was almost too easy to forget where they stood. He could almost quell the ache in his chest and imagine they were just lying low in a hotel after a successful heist.

Mick wasn't sure how long they'd been kissing for but the lack of air in his lungs suggested that it'd been awhile. As much as Mick wanted to continue, he needed to breathe. He unwound his arms and grabbed the tops of Len's hands to push him back. That is when he noticed that Len’s hands were shaking.

Mick pulled his head back at that, breaking off the kiss. Len chased for his lips but Mick turned his head to avoid them.

“Lenny?” Mick asked, his voice breathy.

Len looked up at him, his own breath coming out in ragged spurts. His face was wrecked. His lips were a little swollen from the harsh kisses and his eyes were glassy with some unnamable emotion. He kept his hands fisted in Mick's shirt, but he had loosened his grip slightly at Mick's voice.

Mick took Len's hands and slowly peeled his fingers from his shirt. Once they were free of the fabric, Mick interlaced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb back and forth over Len's in a calming gesture.

“It's okay.” Mick said softly.

“No, it's not.” Len huffed out a bitter laugh. “Nothing about this is okay.”

Mick saw Len’s face twist as he sucked in another breath. He was trying to get a handle on his emotions, but was unable to snap back on his cold persona, which was only getting him more worked up. Len's breath was becoming faster and Mick knew it wasn't just from the kisses.

Mick let go of Len's hands and grabbed the sides of his shoulders, forcing the man to look at his face. Mick felt his heart lurch in his chest at the panicked look on Len's face.

“Breathe, Lenny.” Mick coaxed. He took an exaggerated breath in, waiting for Len to do the same. He did. Mick exhaled and was relieved when Len followed suit.

The sound of their synchronized breathing was the only sound in the room for a short while. Mick kept his hands on Len's shoulders, grounding him. It took a minute but Len's hands finally stopped shaking and his breathing returned to normal.

Mick brought his forehead to rest against Len's, keeping his voice gentle as he said, “We'll get through this. We've been through worse.”

Len huffed out a breath through his nose in disbelief.

“Hey, we will.” Mick said firmly and he meant it.

Len tried to be a cold calculating machine, but he wasn't above mistakes, especially regarding the ones he cared for. He’d seen it happen with Lisa. Len’s overprotectiveness was something they constantly bickered over. He and Len had pointed guns at one another and nearly come to blows more times than he cared to count.

Len always tried to keep his cool, but even he wasn't above the occasional heated argument when feelings clouded his judgment. It wasn't a flaw in Len's design; it was only human after all, but Len saw it as weakness, and it had caused him to run away more times than not.

While Len wasn't exactly the perfect picture when it came to healthy relationships, neither was Mick. But Len always came back to him eventually and Mick was always willing to give him that second chance. As upset and hurt as he was with Len, he wasn't about to turn his back on him now. Hell, he didn't think he’d ever be able to.

Len stayed silent, choosing not to respond to Mick. Instead he moved forward and brushed his lips across Mick's. Mick could feel Len's warm breath on his mouth. 

Just when Mick thought he was going to kiss him, Len pulled back, putting distance between them. Mick took that as his cue to drop his hands from Len's shoulders, stepping back to look his partner in the face.

“I'll come back for you after the mission tonight.” Len said, looking more composed and sure of himself, but Mick could still see the wrinkles around his eyes that spoke of worry.

Mick grunted and gave Len a nod, signifying he understood.

Len took a half step back. He looked like he wanted to say something else to Mick. He stared at Mick another moment before nodding.

“Right,” Len finally said, letting out a breath. He gave Mick a half smirk and then he was off, turning his back and disappearing out the door in a flash of brown.

Mick moved his feet when the door clicked back into place. He locked it behind Len and turned, resting his body against the hard wood. He was worried too. The what-ifs of what could happen with Savage played in his head.

Savage had managed to successfully elude them every time so far and some of the prices they paid for facing him were far too high. Mick tried not to think about what happened to Carter. He didn't care about the hawk guy, barely knew him, but thinking of his death gave way to an image of Len lying dead on that cold stone porch, blood pooling around him and -

Mick smacked his head against the door behind him, trying to push those thoughts from his head. He took a deep breath and shoved himself off the door. He sat down on the lone chair in room and flicked on his lighter. He watched the flame dance for a moment, then snapped it off. He did the same motion again. And again. Flick on. Flick off. Flick on. Flick off.

He did this until there was nothing more to think about.


End file.
